


What he doesn't say

by Sadwritingtyrant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Lowkey steamy, M/M, Roommates, and they were roommates!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadwritingtyrant/pseuds/Sadwritingtyrant
Summary: "A bulb lights suddenly, illuminating shocking orange hair. And then the perplexing figure standing on the fourth step of HIS ladder, widens his eyes, irises catching in the faint glimmer of cheap golden lights.He screams. Atsumu screams. And the ladder topples."
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 22
Kudos: 121
Collections: AtsuHina Exchange





	What he doesn't say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unthank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unthank/gifts).



> This piece is for the AtsuHina exchange. I had fun making two loveable idiots love each other!

The worst part about practice is trudging the 250 metres back home. The grueling walk uphill back to his dorm is only comforting because he sees the light at the end of the tunnel. His former roommate Sakusa had left as soon as a vacancy had opened in Ushijima’s room, and now Atsumu looks forward to a warm hot bath, without having to scrub the tub down twice afterwards.

All dreams of citrus scented shampoo and the fluffy bath towel he’d bought with a discount come to a screeching halt as he registers that the door, he’d made sure he’d locked is suddenly gaping open. The lights are suspiciously off. Atsumu has never been one to run away, never quite felt fear as he had in high school for his former volleyball captain, Kita.

He’d grown up with a twin, a complete monstrosity, and therefore very few scenes could actually scare him. And yet, the chill running down his spine at the sight of a tall silhouette in his dorm, in his home, outlined by nothing but moonlight, is definitely not something his imagination conjured.

“Hello?” he tries, reaching out a hand, which in hindsight, is a completely illogical thing to do.

A bulb lights suddenly, illuminating shocking orange hair. And then the perplexing figure standing on the fourth step of _his_ ladder, widens his eyes, irises catching in the faint glimmer of cheap golden lights.

He screams. Atsumu screams. And the ladder topples.

“For fuck’s sake, get _off_ me,” Atsumu groans, as he reaches down to shove the midget off him.

“I-I’m sorry! Miya san! I’m really sorry!” he cries, scrambling to his feet. Atsumu regards him from his place on the floor.

“Ya know me?” he asks massaging his bruised arms.

“Ah.” He rubs his neck sheepishly. “I’m your new roommate.”

Atsumu gapes.

“What? No way! I pay for this room, shr- wait what’s yer name anyway?”

“Hinata Shoyou,” he replies immediately bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m terribly sorry if I gave you a scare Atsumu san,” he continues, voice earnest, “the lights were burned out so I was fixing one.”

“I wasn’t _scared_ ,” Atsumu blusters, “I-ya jus’ looked really tall. Ya cheated!”

“Ah,” Hinata regards him curiously, as if _he’s_ the one being ridiculous. “Yes Miya san.”

“Don’t ya _yes Miya san_ me! How come yer my roommate? And call me Atsumu while yer at it. ‘Miya’ brings horrible memories.” He shudders.

“Ah the school dean put me in here, this was the only open slot.”

Atsumu stares. There is something incredibly annoying about the way hinata seems to take in the room with thinly veiled wonder.

“Never shared a room before?” he asks, hating himself for the lack of bite in his voice.

“No, it’s my first time away from home. I hope I don’t get homesick,” Hinata responds, but the accompanying chuckle is weak.

“Are we in any classes together?” Atsumu asks, half in an attempt to distract him.

“I’m a first year, so nope.” Atsumu can’t help noticing the way his lips press together. Hmm, he makes the “p” pop.

Heh, pee pop. He chuckles to himself. Good one. Majoring in English, really helped him; his English jokes are way funnier. Maybe Hinata Shoyou would be clever enough to get his jokes. Sakusa “Omi” Kiyoomi never did.

“Okay runt-“

“Hinata,” he insists.

“Okay Shoyou kun, I’ll wash up first. Top bunk’s mine.”

Atsumu stands and up and strides past him to the bathroom determinedly ignoring the slight red, tinging “Shoyou kun’s” ears.

For the fourth time that night, Atsumu awakens with a rough jolt. For some reason, despite his screaming muscles and obvious fatigue, his sleep is restless, bumpy. He hears it again, slight sniffles as if the person in question is attempting to muffle them.

He reaches out for his phone and checks the time. 02.47.

This new piece of information makes him want to throttle someone, preferably Shoyou kun, instead he runs simulations in his head. He shares trig with Omi kun, maybe if he begs Omi would show his notes and he could skip that class altogether. Was it worth begging? Sakusa might hold it over his head for the rest of his life, maybe even video it and use it as blackmail. Maybe he could charm the class scorer? Too much work. He might find himself in a relationship, something he’d been avoiding for years.

There’s a renewed set of sniffles and Atsumu’s had enough. He opens his mouth, words razor sharp sitting on his tongue, until he hears an odd mantra, one that chills him to the bone.

It’s whispered out in dulcet tones, horribly offkey but the words are still incredibly nerve wracking.

“…niku niku…” sniffle.

Meat is god? meat is life?

Was he rooming with a psychopath? He buries himself deeper into his sheets, straining his ears, as the words drift into the cold night air.

The more he listens however, the less intimidating it sounds and by the fourth round, Atsumu finds himself muttering it under his breath. It’s a sobering realization.

“Shoyou kun?” he calls out, and the words hang in the air for a few seconds that seem stretch into hours.

He hears scrambling, and then a thump.

He shouldn’t snort, he really shouldn’t, but Miya Atsumu is an asshole at heart, so he does.

Folding his hands behind his head he settles into his bed, wondering what Shoyou looks like, tangled up in his sheets.

“Need some help?” he asks staring up at the ceiling, and he realizes that his words lack bite, lack the annoyance it _should_ have as is normal for _anyone_ woken up at 2.47 in the morning.

“Yes please,” and Atsumu cant help the way his mouth tilts upwards at the side. He cant help it. The new guy’s ridiculous.

He climbs down the ladder, and finds Shoyou at the foot of his bed, bedsheets looped around his neck, in between his thighs, caught under the leg of their bunk bed.

Slowly he reaches down, trying not to notice the tan lines on Shoyou’s legs, ones he hadn’t noticed before but are now glaringly obvious in the shorts he wears to bed.

His hand grazes Shoyou’s rear as he pulls the sheet around and there’s an ever so slight jolt as if he’d flinched and then tampered it down.

“All done,” Atsumu says, sighing. And then he wordlessly clambers up the ladder, pretending to ignore the way the moonlight glints on the tear tracks on Shoyou kun’s cheeks, and flops heavily on his bed.

Two minutes…three minutes…absolute silence.

And Atsumu feels horrible. In his gut, he knows that Shoyou is awake, breathing quietly, gulping down emotion and tears. The silence is mocking affirmation. Hes not sure why he’s concerned. He shouldn’t be. Its none of his goddamn business.

Instead he calls out, “Shoyou kun?” softer than he has any right to be.

“Mi-Atsumu san,” Hinata responds hesitantly.

“What do ya normally do when you’re homesick?” Atsumu asks staring up at the ceiling.

Silence.

“I- Atsumu san, I think I told you this is my first time away from home.”

Atsumu turns his head to rest his burning face on the cool side of his pillow swallowing the waves of embarrassment. He can hear the underlying _are you stupid_ in Hinata’s words.

“I-ya-what do ya do when yer havin’ a bad dream then?” he grits out.

“Oh. Um, I call my mom. We cuddle. That sort of thing.”

Silence. For the second time that night, Atsumu wants to smother the little idiot. All he wanted was to help, which yes was out of character for him, but what exactly could he do? He couldn’t _cuddle_ the kid.

Hinata takes his silence the wrong way.

He laughs uncomfortably, “I guess you think its weird, I’m twenty years old, and still cuddle my mom when I get scared-“

“No,” Atsumu interjects. “It’s just-“ he pauses.

“Shoyou kun…do ya like volleyball?”

Shoyou kun apparently, is a huge fan of volleyball. He’s also played a regular amount. Atsumu takes the right end of the couch, Shoyou takes the left, and they place a bucket of roasted popcorn and nuts in between as they yell at miniscule players running around on their little TV that Atsumu has yet to finish paying for.

“I play setter,” Atsumu mumbles through a full mouth.

“That’s so cool!” Shoyou exclaims, and he has to fight down the blush that threatens to overwhelm him.

The decision to let shoyou watch his favorite volleyball matches feels like some kind of foreshadowing, but Atsumu always barrels headfirst into danger, he’s become immune to warning bells. When Shoyou’s fingers graze his, ever so lightly as they reach for snacks, he pretends he doesn’t feel the slight tingle. He pretends he doesn’t see the way Shoyou looks at his hands when he talks about setting.

Somewhere in the middle of this midnight tryst, “annoying” slips to “endearing”, “I need to sleep” shifts to “a few more minutes” and “I need a new roommate” shifts to “I want you as my teammate”. I’m going to toss to you someday, Atsumu thinks but does not say.

“Ever thought of playing? Our team is pretty good, ya should try out,” Atsumu says instead, trying not to focus on the bobbing piece of hair that demands attention every time Shoyou kun jumps at a “nice kill”.

“Maybe I will,” Shoyou says turning to face him. “And you can set to me. We can make the ball go “whoosh”, you and me!”

You and me sounds good, Atsumu does not say.

This feels oddly domestic, Atsumu does not say.

Your eyes have a weird glint to them every time the ace calls for a toss, I’d like to see you call for one of mine, Atsumu does not say.

And when at 4.27 am a bright orange head falls with a soft thump on his shoulder and the last of the popcorn at the bottom of the barrel scatter to the ground, I think you’re warm, Atsumu does not say.

The shrill alarm piercing his ear drums brings onslaught a whole bunch of resentment but strangely, the target is not the person currently drooling on his arm. Shoyou’s legs are precariously strewn over Atsumu’s thighs; a slight shift, and he’d be sitting on his lap.

“Shoyou kun,” he calls out, voice gruff and heavy with sleep.

“Shoyou kun,” he tries again.

“Hm?” Shoyou mumbles burrowing himself into Atsumu’s chest. Surely shoyou would wake up, his heart is loud enough to play marching band at a volleyball game. But Shoyou stays put, so Atsumu reaches one arm around his body, and another to pat at Shoyou’s face. When sleepy brown eyes meet golden, Shoyou stares for a heartbeat..two…and then gives a yelp and decks Atsumu in the face.

“Who gave you the black eye?” Sakusa snorts as he takes his seat by Atsumu.

“Oh shut yer darn mouth Omi,” Atsumu snarls placing the icepack over that offending sight.

Outside the lecture hall, he spots an orange head bobbing trying to see over the stream of people piling into the class.

Shoyou holds up a board, and the letters though barely decipherable, break his resolve at staying grumpy for the rest of the day.

“I will make it up to you Atsumu san”, in English no less, except he’s drawn an actual eye, a blacked eye, for “I”. It’s too endearing. Atsumu wants to crawl into a hole and die.

There’s an unspoken rule that first years and second years don’t sit together for lunch, but Hinata Shoyou is an exception to all rules.

Which is why, a week later Hinata has fully blended in. people can’t help but talk to him, can’t help but be drawn to his bubbly personality, the almost palpable excitement that seems to radiate from him. Even Omi occasionally does something that resembles a smile.

Except today when Hinata takes up the seat beside him, that extra chair Omi keeps out in case Ushijima, a third year also becomes gutsy enough to break the rules.

The issue with today though, is that Ushijima _is_ gutsy, and actually seems to want the seat Shoyou is currently occupying, and the sad truth is, Atsumu doesn’t want to oblige him. Shoyou is oblivious to the situation as a whole and doesn’t feel Omi’s glowering glare targeting his back. Well you’re not together yet, Atsumu wants to spit out. Go get a room and let Shoyou be, next to me, he doesn’t say.

“Hinata-“ Sakusa starts, high and mighty sounding, “I reserved this chair.”

Shoyou halts mid conversation and swivels around to glance at Ushijima.

Atsumu feels annoyed for some reason, it feels like a couples showdown which is stupid because, none of them are dating. Certainly not him and Shoyou. But his prime instinct is to rile, and not to soothe, so he says, “You can take my lap Omi kun.”

It’s a running gag among the second years, ever since a girl had perched herself on his lap and refused to budge until he accepted her confession. What Atsumu doesn’t expect is _three_ baleful glares directed at him instead of two.

“Please take this one,” Shoyou mutters before Atsumu can correct himself, and packs up his bag and leaves, just like that.

He feels like shit.

“Shoyou kun,” he bangs on their door. For a second Atsumu is sure Shoyou won’t open it as punishment, but what the punishment is for, remains murky and uncertain.

‘I’m sorry’ tries to make its way out of his mouth, but he stops himself because though he might’ve pissed Omi and Ushiwaka, (and couldn’t care less about it) Shoyou, Shoyou shouldn’t look disappointed.

The door opens, and Hinata puts on a smile laced with sharp edges.

“Are ya okay?’

“Why wouldn’t I be Atsumu san?”

Atsumu has been called dumb many times in his life, it happens having Osamu as his brother and Omi as his classmate, but he isn’t too stupid that he can’t detect passive aggression.

“Ya can tell me if there’s somethin' wrong.”

There’s a silence as Atsumu observes Hinata’s back, sees the taut lines of muscle and the curving back, and then, Shoyou relaxes.

“Nothing,” Hinata says, and the bitterness is gone, but signs of wistfulness remain. Atsumu wants to put a name to it, but he’s a coward.

They cook dinner together, turns out Hinata is much better at cooking than he is, and never burns eggs, not once! But Atsumu chops the vegetables, and scrapes coconut and does all the “gritty, boring work”.

They settle on the couch and Shoyou tells him about his day.

“Kageyama is dating this really pretty girl, I’m not even sure HOW it happened because he’s so insensitive-“

“Mm,” Atsumu responds flicking off flecks of rice that land on Hinata’s thigh due to his enthusiastic rambling.

“-but he said I would never be able to find someone tat great,” Hinata finishes balefully.

“Why?” Atsumu asks absent mindedly, “yer plenty loveable.”

He wants to take the words back as soon as he says them, but maybe not because Shoyou’s face is doing that thing where his nose is awash with smeared red watercolor, ears a prominent scarlet, deliberately avoiding eye contact for which Atsumu is grateful because he’s sure he’s blushing too, but not half as pretty.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Shoyou mutters quietly, but it is immediately followed by;

“hey, wanna fake date me?”

Of course it ends with Atsumu retching over the toilet bowl, not at the suggestion, but at the way he’d inhaled his food quite literally right afterwards.

Only for a few weeks, Shoyou kun begs. Just to show Kageyama he can “score someone big”, he assures. Just for tomorrow then? He reiterates. Okay fine, I won’t ask, he mumbles slumping into the couch.

How can Atsumu say no?

Which is why Monday morning finds Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shoyou holding hands, even as they walk pass the gates. Atsumu takes him to his lecture hall, and says a moderately loud, “I’ll come pick you up babe.”

To which Hinata responds with a soft, “No rush, I’ll wait for you.”

Funnily enough, not many people are surprised, in fact Sakusa responds with a gruff, “took you long enough.”

This in turn makes him feel stupid but he’s not sure why.

Atsumu takes Hinata out to lunch, wipes whipped cream from his lips like in those romcoms they threw popcorn at a couple days ago, pays for his food (though Hinata tried to reimburse his share), and stares at him with what Sakusa calls a “disgustingly lovestruck” expression. Except…its not too different from the usual. Only, Hinata blushes now, and Atsumu wonders if he can conjure blushes at will.

Only one class to go, Atsumu thinks as he walks with Sakusa to their next class. There’s a light commotion out in the corridor, and both of them move to see what it’s about despite themselves.

“-No way dumbass,” a black haired boy is saying, grinning in what can truly only be called evil intent (it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s rumored to be coming to next week’s tryouts for the setter position, nope).

“We’re dating! It’s true! Ask Atsumu san!”

Oh.

“Shoyou! Babe!” Atsumu calls out, the hand not clutching his books, extending into the air in a wave.

Shoyou looks at him and lights up like a Christmas tree, and then suddenly he’s running, barreling headfirst towards Atsumu whose mind is suddenly filled with a dull sort of panic. He drops his books onto the ground instinctively, freeing both his hands. Shoyou launches himself like a catapult, and wraps his legs around Atsumu’s waist, hooking his arms around his neck.

“Make it look natural,” he begs quietly.

Atsumu isn’t quite himself, not with the way shoyou is clinging to him with all his limbs like a goddamn monkey, an endearing idiot, his idiot, a pretty baby-

He turns his face towards Shoyou and kisses him on the lips. He feels rather than hears Shoyou’s gasp, but swallows it in his own mouth, more interested in the way Shoyou’s fingers thread in his hair pulling him closer. He swipes his tongue over Shoyou’s lower lip and there’s a choked sound that sounds like the beginning of a dampened moan, and he wants to punch the air, he’s done it, he won, this is victory-

Sobering reality comes in the form of Omi’s disgusted, “Ew get a fucking room.”

And he breaks off the kiss.

Shoyou is sweating bullets, face beet red, pupils dilated, he’s panting like he’d just run a marathon, and Atsumu isn’t faring any better. It’s embarrassing really, how his composure slips because of the boy wrapped around him. He feels Shoyou’s fingers loosen their hold, and then Shoyou buries his face in Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Miya san-“ Kageyama is blushing, as is everyone in the vicinity except Sakusa, who apparently only appreciates one tongue, that being Ushijima’s.

Atsumu lets Shoyou back down on his feet.

“I’ll talk to ya later Shoyou.” He drops the kun on purpose. Hinata notices.

“Yes, Atsumu. Atsumu san.”

Ah well, they can practice.

Being roommates means the chances of escaping embarrassment is low and therefore Atsumu and Hinata find themselves in their little apartment room, cringing and awkward.

“I’m going to bed early,” Atsumu says at last, faking a yawn.

“O-okay.”

Its 1.43. Atsumu checked the time. He knows. And he also knows that Shoyou is awake.

This time he climbs down the ladder and stands by Shoyou’s bed watching his eyes widen slightly. And then he shifts ever so slowly, an unspoken invitation.

Atsumu slides under the sheets, and they lie side by side, trying to synchronize breaths and then trying remember how to breath normally. Shoyou moves just a little, turns on his side with his back facing Atsumu, rear jutting out and grazing his abdomen. That’s all the encouragement he needs.

Atsumu wraps an arm around his waist and drags his body until his back is flush on his chest. His hand perches gently on Shoyou’s belly, and he’s sure Shoyou can feel the insistent thrum of his heart. Shoyou’s hair tickles his nose, and they lie still, finally relaxing and melding into each other.

They hear a sudden yelp from next door, and both of them scramble out of bed to peer through the window, at Sakusa's house.

“Looks like Ushijima paid a night visit,” Atsumu mutters watching their backs disappear behind a closed door.

“Hmm,” Shoyou says, but he’s looking at Atsumu. Atsumu can feel the weight of his stare.

“What about you Atsumu san? Not going to bring anyone over?”

Atsumu continues to stare out the window.

“Well…you’re here.”

He glances at Shoyou who looks thoroughly taken aback.

“Oh um-Atsumu san- I-I can leave if you want to you know- with someone-“

“No!” Atsumu scrambles to say. He can feel the heat creeping up the side of his neck.

“I mean, you’re _here_.”

“Oh.”

The silence is suffocating but oddly thrilling. He feels Shoyou shift beside him, and then suddenly a hand pops up in his line of vision.

“Let’s go to bed.”

It sounds oddly seductive, but Atsumu refuses to believe that Shoyou would seduce him. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up and be disappointed.

They crawl into bed, and Atsumu reflexively pulls him back, but then Shoyou turns around to face him. Atsumu can’t see him properly, only his silhouette, but he knows the pretty shade of pink by heart now.

“Can we make it-“

“Yes.”

Shoyou stares. “I didn’t finish saying-“

“Whatever it is, yes.”

“No I…Atsumu san-“

“Lets date for real Shoyou kun.”

Shoyou’s eyes widen, and then close and when they open again, he’s wearing the most beautiful smile Atsumu has ever seen, in his life. Period.

“Yes,” he says breathlessly. “You can read minds!”

“No, I just know you.”

I know you, feels a lot like another three lettered phrase and they both look away in embarrassment. The good kind of embarrassment.

That is until Shoyou swings a leg around his hips and straddles him.

Atsumu gapes.

“I-thought ya had to sleep,” Atsumu tries weakly, even as his hands find purchase on Hinata’s waist.

“I do but you should’ve known better than to sneak into my bed then Atsumu san.” The cheeky little shit.

“I was trying to help ya sleep,” Atsumu insists, as his hand crawls up Shoyou’s thin shirt, tracing the ridges of his abdomen, graced by a slight gasp.

“Don’t lie,” Hinata says, bending over and cupping Atsumu’s face. “You’re not my mom Atsumu san. Did you think we could cuddle?”

This makes Atsumu snort which should ruin the mood, but then Hinata’s lips are on his and his tongue is in his mouth, and its all very messy, and there’s a smile on his face; Atsumu can feel it against his lips.

I like you, Atsumu tries to say in between kisses, but doesn’t say. It’s alright. They have all the time in the world.


End file.
